(no subject)
Title: Scar Tissue
Author: JBMcDragon
Genre: Drama
Status: In progress
Rating: R for violence and sexual content
Warnings: Het, yaoi, violence, and terrible, terrible angst. Also, very, very long.
Summary: Set during the end of the time-jump.
They returned one teammate fewer. The loss of that teammate changed Kakashi in ways Obito surviving couldn’t have. Kakashi remembers him fondly, speaks to him in dreams, and carries his ghost as a companion.
But his dreams and reality don’t quite match up . . .
Scar Tissue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Obito couldn't stop the tears. He didn't know what was wrong with him, but he couldn't stop the tears. Hours went by, and every time he thought the tears were gone, that they were all dried up, they'd start again. Slipping quietly from between his eyelids, without any sobbing or fuss, making his eye raw and wetting the pillow.
He got up and got food, and still the tears came. He went back to bed, tried to read a book, and halfway through page five the tears returned, blurring his limited vision.
He decided to nap. It wasn't like he had anyone expecting him or anywhere to be. In fact, he had nothing.
Sometime in the afternoon someone knocked on the door. He ignored it, burying his head under the pillow. They knocked again. And again.
Cursing, Obito dragged himself to his feet, wrestled with the crutches, and hobbled over to open the door.
"Hi," one of the girls from the night before said. Her eyes were red, and for a moment he thought--'Uchiha!' But that wasn't the case at all. He blinked, wished his single eye wasn't swollen from fucking tears, and squinted.
Long black hair. It was curly, thick. Cherry red lips. She was pretty, in an overdone sort of way.
"Are you going to invite me in?" she asked with a friendly smile.
"Oh, uh--" Obito stepped back, caught a crutch on the edge of a chair, and stumbled until she reached out and grabbed him with strong fingers around his arm. "Thanks," he muttered, freeing his crutch and banging across the floor. "Kakashi's not here right now--"
"I was looking for you, actually," she said. "I'm Kurenai," she added, when Obito just stared at her.
"Of course," he said, flushing. She'd introduced herself then, too. Stupid to forget. "Can I get you something to drink?" He wasn't exactly sure how, given that his hands were full of crutches, but it seemed rude not to ask.
"Why don't I get us both something?" she offered, striding into the kitchen as if she weren't wearing spike heels.
Crap, with the heels she was taller than he was. He thought about protesting while she buzzed around the kitchen, then he finally just banged back into the living room and sat down.
"Anko and I thought you could probably use a friend," Kurenai called from the other room, "but she left on a mission this morning. That leaves me."
Obito winced. "You were, uh, both there last night, right?" Oh, gods, he hoped by some miraculous fluke she hadn't seen him break down.
She came back into the room with two glasses of water, set one down beside Obito, and perched on the couch. "Don't worry about it," she said with a sympathetic smile. "Everyone does it from time to time."
Obito would have sunk lower into his chair, might have apologized--*something*--but then she tapped the long scar drawn through his missing eye, the scar that matched Kakashi's, and said, "Rakish." She grinned.
He stared at her. "Huh?"
Kurenai laughed. "Come on. I know you're grieving, and you're probably going to be a wreck today, but we're getting you out of the house."
"I don't--" he began, aware he hadn't dressed and probably stank.
"Come on," Kurenai said again, grabbing his elbow and hauling him to his feet. She looked down at him. "Little guy, aren't you?"
Obito's spine straightened. "Uchiha," he muttered.
"Right. That's right. They were all short," she said, and shoved his crutches at him. "Let's go, Titchy."
He frowned, sorting out limbs and crutches. "*What* did you just call me?"
Kurenai smiled again. Hair curled around her face. "Mist term. Let's go."
She practically dragged him out the door.
**
The lights along the streets swung in the evening breeze, and little strings of them ran around café patios and up through trees. He didn't remember Konoha being so . . . *pretty.* Of course, he hadn't been that interested in it at twelve and thirteen years of age.
He tried not to feel self-conscious, or notice that Kurenai only took them half a block at a time before just *happening* to find someone to talk to--and sit down with--or a pub that served something Obito just *had* to try. Which, of course, they had to sit down to do.
They didn't make it far in the last of the sunlight, but the trek continued through starlight, lanterns swaying above them. He preferred the uncertain dark, anyway. Easier to hide the traitorous tears that came occasionally, for no reason whatsoever. And he felt less blind in the dark. It was more like--
For a horrific moment, he'd thought, 'Home.'
No. It was more like the cell. A cell that would *never* be home, even if he lived there for sixty years rather than sixteen.
Kurenai talked with her friends, and they all ignored his shaking.
By the time she finally took him home he'd realized that all the shinobi were nice enough to ignore minor spaz attacks, along with unwanted tears. They knew how to accommodate injuries without seeming condescending, even to his--he admitted--prickly pride.
He'd also had people ask, "You're staying with the Copy Ninja? What's he like?" more times than he could warrant. When he gave them an honest answer--"Kind of an arrogant dick,"--they stared at him and then laughed.
He got back to Kakashi's late. Kakashi wasn't there. Obito collapsed into his bed and slept through the night.
**
Kakashi, Obito learned in the morning, would be gone on a mission for a few days. Obito crumpled the note and tossed it in the garbage, then scrounged up food and went back to bed.
He showered around noon, not feeling particularly awake but thinking that if Kurenai came over he didn't want to stink. He didn't care if he stunk for the physical therapist, who had to come in regardless.
Afterward, he stood in front of the bathroom mirror, staring at his reflection. Gods. What wasn't scarred was broken or twisted. He was all bones and loose skin, muscle tone long gone. He yanked a robe around himself, hoped Kurenai wouldn't arrive any time soon, and crutched out to the bedroom where his borrowed clothes lay on the bed.
Fuck.
**
It was just a B-ranked mission, but he'd taken it anyway to get out of the house. He didn't know what to do with Obito, with the grieving mass of human who obviously didn't want him around.
Still, B-ranked missions only lasted so long, and it was with a weary mind and tired muscles that Kakashi made his way back to his apartment several days later.
It was night when he let himself in, dragging off his hitai-ate and tossing his vest on a chair, too tired to put it away properly. Obito was watching him from the couch, single eye spinning red and black, around and around. He had a book in one hand and a cup of sake on the table beside him.
"Hi," Kakashi said after a moment of silence.
Obito looked back down at the book. "Kill anyone interesting?" he asked, tone just shy of sarcastic.
Kakashi rubbed a hand through his hair, wondering what, exactly, Obito's problem was now. "Couple of Chuunin who wouldn't stop attacking," he said, deciding to take the question at face value.
Actually, he'd only killed one of the Chuunin and incapacitated the other. The sealing jutsu he'd used on the kid would hold for a few hours, so if his teammates got there he had a chance of surviving. Kakashi didn't tell Obito that, though. He didn't need it known he was going soft on enemy ninja, even if they were practically children.
"Students of yours?" Obito asked sweetly.
Kakashi stared at him. "I'll have you know," he said coolly, "that I'm actually a half-way decent shinobi. I've gotten better since you last saw me."
Obito snorted and put down his book. "Oh, yeah, I was asking around about you. Let's see . . . you left me for dead, let the Fourth die, didn't save Rin, were sent after Itachi but came home without him, only ever passed one Genin team and of them, one defected and the other two were taken away to study under *other* Jounin." He stopped, pretending to think. "Did I miss anything? Other than periodic teammates who were killed in various wars, which I'm told happens to everyone? Really, that's an impressive record."
Kakashi stood, quiet, trying to gain a hold on his temper. This tired, it was always near the surface. He put both hands in his pockets and slouched. He took a deep breath, hidden behind his mask, and asked, "What do you want from me, Obito?"
There was a flare of twisted chakra, strong enough to make Kakashi gather the unraveled ends of his own. "I want my god-damned life back!" Obito shouted, snatching up his crutches and struggling to his feet. "I want the sixteen years you stole! I want normal dreams and--and my family!"
"I can't give that to you," Kakashi said softly. Then he turned and opened the door.
"Where the hell are you going?" Obito snarled.
"To Gai's," Kakashi said simply. He didn't turn around. Guilt and anger warred, making him vaguely ill.
"Why? He your lover?" Obito said snidely.
Kakashi slanted a look over his shoulder. "Would it matter?"
"It might. He might croak, too."
Kakashi felt a sharp comment crawl up his throat. But this was his fault. His fault Obito was bitter and angry, tortured for sixteen years. He turned and walked into the hall, closing the door behind him. He could still feel chakra, sour and rage-purple, reaching after him. He walked away. Down the hall, up a floor, to Gai's door. There was a wreath on it, all fall colors--amusing, since it was spring. Kakashi knocked once and then walked in.
Classical music was playing, and Gai was sniffling while chopping--Kakashi sniffed--onions. Well. He supposed that was a better reason for tears than most of Gai's reasons.
"My Eternal Rival!" Gai bawled. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
Kakashi dropped bonelessly onto the couch. "I'm escaping Obito. He's spoiling for a fight. I don't have the patience." He looked sidelong at Gai, then asked hopefully, "I don't suppose you feel the need to challenge an Uchiha?"
Gai tossed minced onions into a giant pot, wiping his tears off on a towel. Whatever he said was lost in the cloth, but Kakashi felt certain it wasn't, 'Why, yes! I'm dying to do just that!'
"What does he want?" Gai asked, pulling out a new cutting board and laying a chicken breast on it. He began to slice that, too, dropping thin strips into the pot as he did.
"His life back." Kakashi closed his eyes and let his head rest against the back of the couch, grateful that Gai's furniture was comfortable. Anger drained out of him, leaving regret behind. How could he face Obito's anger, tell him to back off, when he thought it justified? Kakashi might have to start coming here a lot more often.
"Well," Gai said thoughtfully, "he can't have it back, and he's going to waste what's left of his Precious Youth if he keeps trying to get it."
Kakashi laughed softly. "Tell him that, would you? And maybe that I'm not a bad-luck charm to anyone who fights alongside me, while you're at it?"
The chopping stopped. String music filled the silence, haunting and slow before the crash of symbols picked everything up.
"Most Admired Colleague! You're not a bad-luck charm!"
"I know," Kakashi said dryly. "That's what I said."
". . . oh," Gai murmured finally, and began chopping again. "So . . . he's fighting with you, because he can't fight reality?"
Kakashi looked up. He hated it when Gai had insights. It always made him feel one step behind. So he did what he always did when that happened. "Hm." And closed his eyes.
"Ohhh! My So-Hip Rival! So Modern!" Gai exclaimed from the kitchen. Kakashi could imagine his face turning red and the fist holding the knife shaking in the air. It made him smirk.
Silence stretched, filled with the smell of peppers. "Why doesn't he get his own apartment? He has the money," Gai asked after a time.
"I haven't suggested it," Kakashi admitted. "He's grieving. At least at my place, he doesn't have to worry about food or paying bills . . ."
"But you keep running from your own home," Gai pointed out reasonably.
Kakashi shrugged. "Guilt'll do that," he muttered. He looked up, watching peppers join the chicken in the pot, and celery go in after that. "How many people are you planning on feeding?"
Gai's face lit. "Lee-kun is coming over after his training for more training!"
Kakashi winced. "I think I'd better find another couch to crash on," he muttered, wishing he hadn't left his hitai-ate and vest home. He didn't really want to wander the village without them, but didn't know anyone else in this apartment building well enough to sleep on their furniture.
*Gods.* He was going to have to go get his hitai-ate. Genma was home, he thought. Genma would let him in. But how to explain that to Obito? Did it matter?
If he ran really fast, maybe it wouldn't matter that he didn't have his hitai-ate. He hoisted himself off Gai's couch, giving the simmering pot one last look, unsure if it looked good or terrifying. He opted for terrifying, since he didn't know what Gai had put in it before he'd arrived. "I'm heading to Genma's," he said, wandering to the window. "Keep an ear open for Obito, will you?"
"Of course, my Most Awesome Companion!"
Kakashi winced and hoped that name wouldn't stick. Eternal Rival he could deal with, but Awesome Companion? Geh. He vaulted out the window and flung himself toward Genma's.
**
Days slid into weeks, and Obito, for all intents and purposes, was the only occupant of Kakashi's apartment. The Copy Ninja appeared occasionally to get clean clothes or restock the kitchen, but then left on another mission or to sleep on a friend's couch.
Kakashi couldn't stand the guilt. Couldn't kick Obito out, because the man had nowhere to go. Couldn't deal with looking at him, fending off his anger, refusing to retaliate because, hells, the guy was crippled and miserable and it was Kakashi's fault.
He should have gone back.
He'd been *thirteen.*
He went home again, tiptoed in the door and felt the weight of grief lifted in his little apartment. A glance at Obito--awake, sitting at the kitchen table--showed his single eye clear and unswollen. No tears.
Obito glanced at him. "You usually gone this much?" he asked, then stood and picked up his cereal bowl, hobbling to the counter with just one crutch.
Kakashi cocked his head. "You're walking better," he said tentatively.
Obito had to nearly turn around to eye him. "Physical therapy." He put his bowl in the sink, ran water, and went back to the table with the single crutch. "Kaori says I'll probably be able to walk with a cane, when all is said and done."
"That's good," Kakashi said, brightening slightly. "Right?"
Obito lifted his unscarred shoulder and dropped it. "Suppose."
Kakashi stood there, hands stuffed in his pockets, then finally headed for the bedroom. "I'm just going to get some things . . ." He went through his drawers, pulled out a couple of books he'd been wanting to read and a few new shirts, then felt Obito. He turned.
Obito stood, bad shoulder arced from the crutch, knuckles white on the grip. "You said you'd take me to the Uchiha memorial," Obito said tightly, gaze latched on the floor.
Kakashi straightened entirely, putting down the shirt he'd been folding. "Yes. Of course."
"When?"
"Whenever you like."
Obito took a deep breath, and Kakashi saw that the man was starting to fill out again. He was Uchiha, and would never be stocky. The Uchiha were all lean and willowy, small people with enormous power. But at least his bones weren't showing anymore. "Today?" Obito said, still staring at the floor. The strap of the eyepatch cut a line across his forehead, accentuating the slender black brows.
"Yes," Kakashi said.
Obito licked his lips, then nodded once and turned. "I should just--I need to take some pills first . . ." he crutched out of the room, black and silver hair falling shiny across his back.
Kakashi put his shirt away, then followed the other man into the family room. Obito was in the kitchen, swallowing pills with water, grimacing with each one. Then the Uchiha shuffled about a bit, moving papers and muttering about cleaning--stalling, really. Eventually he looked up. "Is that it, then?" he asked, chin lifting defiantly. "Are you ready?"
Kakashi just nodded and opened the door, sauntering out into the hall and waiting for Obito to follow. He did, stopping in the doorway to throw a light coat on over his shirt.
"You have new clothes," Kakashi mentioned, glancing at baggy khaki pants and the black, long sleeved shirt.
Obito slanted him a look upward, full of the annoyed disdain he'd had as a boy. "I couldn't keep borrowing Hiashi-san's."
"True," Kakashi said, and pulled the door closed before starting down the hall. Out the window and across the rooftops would be faster, but it was obvious Obito wasn't going to manage that.
"Anko took me shopping," Obito said. "Ibiki saved me."
Kakashi laughed, glancing down at the black head of hair beside him. Obito was glaring at the floor, concentrating on where he stepped, gait off-kilter. No more of a limp than Kakashi had expected. Less, actually. Still painfully noticeable.
They made small talk for the first few minutes of their walk, and then Obito fell silent, chakra going more and more brittle. Kakashi remained quiet, giving him mental space, keeping their pace slow. It took time to get out of the village, and Kakashi realized this may well end up being a day trip. He should have brought food.
The Uchiha memorial was on the outskirts of the village, in a little clearing made into a park. Someone had planted flowers years before, but hadn't kept up with them. They'd overgrown their boundaries, rioting color through the grass. Ivy crawled all over a small arboretum. A wall stood, or parts of one: by design each bit of wall was no more than a foot across, standing pillar-like in a snaking row, letting sun shine between.
It was glossy black rock with red veins of mineral running through it, and it glittered in the late morning light. Lists and lists of names were chiseled into it, over a hundred in all. Unlit candles sat in red bowls on stone tablets at the base of each pillar.
"Here," Obito said quietly, hobbling until he balanced mostly on his good leg and could hand his crutch to Kakashi. "Hold this for me."
Kakashi took it, simply watching, doing his best to fade into the background as Obito breathed deeply. Chakra gathered and pooled in the man's chest, circled once quickly as he made hand seals, then flared brighter and tore through scarred pathways when the last Konoha Uchiha said, "Goukakyuu no jutsu!" and forced the blaze through his mouth, shaping it with his fingers.
Flame licked out along the pillars, catching on candle wicks so that when the fire vanished, bits remained behind. Obito swayed, and Kakashi prepared to catch him should he fall. Then one imperious hand thrust out, fingers curling rapidly in a 'hand it back' gesture.
Kakashi put the crutch in Obito's hand and the man took it, leaned on it, and hobbled closer to the lists.
The jutsu had taken more out of Obito than he wanted to admit, Kakashi could see. He said nothing, aware of Uchiha pride, and simply waited. Time passed as he stood, watching Obito look at the pillars, limp growing more pronounced as time gathered. Obito read each name anyway.
He was halfway through when he spoke. "I keep thinking someone has to be alive," he said finally, untwisted fingers reaching out to stroke over an engraved name. "That he couldn't have gotten all of them."
"He didn't get you," Kakashi pointed out.
Obito gave a bitter laugh. "I have been told," he said quietly, "that I'm now a very wealthy man." His head turned, his profile coming into view. Perfectly straight nose, high cheekbones seeming higher because of the eyepatch. No scars on this side, Kakashi thought, and realized he was seeing Obito as Obito might have been. "Funny how people will say that money can't buy happiness, and at least you have your health . . . until your family and your health are gone. Then they tell you that you have money, as if that'll make it better."
Kakashi didn't wince.
Obito turned and began reading names once more. "She snuck me cookies when my mother said I couldn't have any," he said once, on the whisper of a broken laugh. The laugh died, and he wiped at his eye with his sleeve. Then continued down to the next pillar.
At last he was sitting on the ground at the end of the row, having finally given in to pain. Grass curled up over his badly healed fingers, hiding the fact that one was missing. Flowers bobbed around him, and in the nearby trees birds sang. Obito was nothing more than a small shadow in the midst of it, black hair and black shirt, black eyepatch marring pale skin. "What happened to the man who did this? Where'd he go?" Obito murmured.
Kakashi walked over and sat down as well, plucking a blade of grass and splitting it lengthwise. "Itachi escaped. He joined the Akatsuki. He works with a missing ninja named Kisame. People are looking for him, but he's hidden successfully so far."
"And killed anyone who might have found him," Obito added. "And the other one? The one you said turned traitor?"
"Sasuke joined Orochimaru. His plan seems to be to trade his body--Orochimaru will need another soon--for the power to kill Itachi."
"Can't blame him for that," Obito said dryly. "I applaud his reasons, if not his stupidity. Would've been better to get his team to help."
"Yes. Well." Kakashi said nothing more. Sasuke reminded him too much of himself at that age; determined to do it himself, unburdened by a team. He hadn't learned what Obito had painfully taught Kakashi.
The sun crept across the sky.
"I--" Obito stopped, pale skin flushing, and ripped out a handful of grass.
"What?" Kakashi asked, looping arms around his knees and holding one wrist with the other hand, relaxed.
Obito hunched his shoulders and dropped the grass in favor of a flower. "I don't think I can walk back home."
Kakashi kept his tone neutral, sensing the prickle of injured pride and able to guess how much it cost Obito to admit that. He just shrugged nonchalantly. "I'll carry you. Just tell me when you're ready to go."
Obtio's face turned further away, hostility rising off him in waves. "If you just take me to the edge of the village, I can walk the rest of the way," he said, and Kakashi heard the unspoken words--no one would have to see him so crippled.
"All right," he said, even though he figured that was still too far.
They sat for a while longer while the day edged toward afternoon. The sun beat relentlessly down, and the trees kept the breeze from them. Obito shed his coat after a bit, and even pushed the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows. Scars ran down one arm, the skin slightly discolored. They were nothing worse than Kakashi had seen before, but Obito ran a hand up and down them, thumb following the lines.
The crutch lay at their feet, wood bound with leather. Candles burned, and smoke underlay the sweet of flowers and the fresh of grass.
"All right," Obito said, pulling his sleeves down and shivering once as afternoon waned toward evening. "We should go home." Pink rose over his jaw and across fair cheekbones, partly sunburn, mostly a frustrated blush. He wiped again at his eye, the one Kakashi couldn't see, then picked up his crutch.
Kakashi stood, held out a hand, and when the Uchiha clasped it he pulled the man up and swung him around, settling him piggy-back before taking off through the forest. At the edge of the village he stopped, put Obito down, then took the crutch away. "Still too far," he said softly, looping an arm around the man's back and pulling Obito's hand across his shoulders, nearly lifting him off his feet.
For a moment he thought Obito would object, and then the Uchiha seemed to realize that he could *look* like he was walking while Kakashi supported his weight. They moved through the village like that, making it home as dark began to settle throughout the apartment. He put Obito on the couch and went into the kitchen to fix dinner.
**
"Kakashi?" Shizune asked, poking her head out of her office. "Kotetsu said you'd made an appointment?"
He stood, tucking away his book. "Ah," he said, smiling. "Yes. About Obito." He stepped inside, glancing around at text-lined walls and stacks of reference material. Getting an appointment to see Tsunade about something not related to Konoha safety was almost impossible, even for him, but Shizune was more accessible--and knew almost as much.
"How's he doing?" she asked, gesturing to a comfortable looking chair and sitting down herself. She scooped her pig up off the floor, setting it in her lap.
"Well enough," Kakashi said blandly. "Considering." He sat, legs extended, ankles crossed, fingers linked over his stomach. "We went to the Uchiha memorial yesterday. He's adapting."
"Yes," Shizune said, flipping through paperwork. "Ibiki says he's made some friends, and seems to be handling his grief well."
Kakashi rubbed the back of his neck, well aware he wasn't one of the friends Obito had made. In some ways, having Obito back but hating Kakashi was worse than Obito dying. He decided to skip the rest of the pleasantries. "He has surprising chakra control, considering how badly scarred his pathways are. Isn't there a way to use that to help him walk better?" The fire jutsu at the memorial had told him Obito's training wasn't all gone, that the man had reserves they hadn't drawn on. Surely they could do *something.*
"Ah," Shizune said, and put her paperwork aside. "Actually, we are using that."
Kakashi frowned.
"He should be crippled."
"He is," Kakashi pointed out dryly.
"No--completely. The fact that he can walk, can still *see* out of the eye he has left, as limited as his vision is--his ability to breathe with only one lung working properly--he has amazing reserves of chakra. Part of the scarring, in fact, seems to have been his own body trying to keep him alive. Rerouting power to where it was needed most, but consequently cutting that energy off to his extremities." She lifted both hands and let them drop. "His injuries were far more severe than just broken bones. He's had multiple doctors in, studying what he subconsciously did, in an attempt to possibly use it and help his body further."
Kakashi frowned.
"The rocks should have killed him," Shizune said. "Even with whatever jutsu the Rock ninja used, the avalanche should have killed him. And, later, their own practices should have done it again. From what Obito's said, they were more worried about him escaping than keeping him alive--or they didn't realize how badly he was hurt." She watched Kakashi for a moment, and added, "Obito should, by all rights, be dead. We're doing what we can, and what's been done is a miracle."
Kakashi scratched at his jawline, material shifting under his fingers. He sighed. "All right," he said at last, pushing up to his feet. "Thank you."
Shizune smiled and inclined her head. "Give him my best."
Kakashi waved, smiled, and vanished.
**
Obito lay on the couch, trying to breathe through pain. He'd overdone it the day before. He'd known it at the time, but--
His jaw hurt from gritting his teeth. The muscle itself was sore, his head ached, and his molars felt like they'd rotted. It was the least of his pain.
His physical therapist, Kaori, had said this would happen. Not to overdo it, to stick with what he'd outlined, and if Obito did go too far he'd pay for it later.
Well, he was paying for it. Obito took deep, slow breaths, eye closed, focusing on the couch underneath him. The door opened. There were no footsteps, which meant it was probably Kakashi. The ass walked cat-quiet.
"Are you all right?"
The tentative bond he'd felt with the Copy Ninja the day before was gone, wiped out in waves of agony. All of this was Kakashi's fault. "No, I'm not fucking all right, you stupid fucking asshole," Obito snapped, pressing his thumbs into his thigh in an attempt to make the twisted muscle stop cramping.
There was a moment of silence. Then, "Maybe I should go."
Obito opened his eyes, saw only a small tunnel of vision. The ceiling was above him. "Yeah, go," he said sarcastically. "It's not like you're ever here anyway. Just go and fucking forget that I don't know my way around here--and--*shit.*" He sat up, bending over his leg, trying to breathe again. Just breathe.
". . . I can get you some pain pills," Kakashi said after a minute. "Here, let me see." The couch dipped, and hands surrounded Obito's. Chakra poured into him, tingling and numbing and taking away the sharpest edge of the pain.
"I thought you were going," Obito snapped, still hurting too much. Taking away the edge did nothing to dull his temper.
"I can at least do this," Kakashi said softly. Nice. Too nice. The Kakashi Obito had known had been an arrogant prick, and this Kakashi was always nice or neutral or oh-so-careful. Reminding him with every word that he wasn't whole, wasn't worth fighting with, poured on pity he didn't want.
"Fuck off!" Obito snarled, slapping Kakashi's hands away. "I don’t need your fucking help! Do what you're good at and *leave*!"
Kakashi stood, walked to the kitchen, riffled through bottles until he found the pain pills. "How many?" His grace was gone. He was annoyed.
*Good.*
And *still* he was being *nice.* "Fuck off!" Obito shouted, picking up a pillow and chucking it at the other man. "Go! Get out! Run away from the problem like you *always* do!"
There was strain around the single visible eye. "I don't--"
"You *do*! Me and Sensei, your students--" He struck close to home, as close as he could get, wanting to hurt, to see something other than that stupid *pity.*
Kakashi slapped the bottle down on the counter. "I do not leave people," he snapped, enunciating clearly. "I haven't ever. Not even you. You were *dead.*"
"Bullshit!" Obito shouted, mind raging with pain and frustration. "At the first sign of a real fight you shit yourself and race off!"
"I've fought more than you can even *imagine* for my teammates," Kakashi said, finally--finally!--raising his voice.
"Right, you and that stupid--" Obito fluttered his fingers beside his head. "Butterfly of doom no jutsu!"
"It's thousand birds!" Kakashi yelled. "Chidori! Thousand birds!"
"Which you couldn't've learned without *my* eye! You wouldn't be half the ninja you are if it weren't for me!"
"Did you want it *back*?" Kakashi asked snidely. "Would that make you feel better?" He twisted the pill bottle violently, the cap popping off and pills scattering. He caught two out of midair. "I can't *believe* I was trying to *help* you," he snarled under his breath.
"Yes! I want it back!" Obito yelled, ignoring the words not meant for him. "Then maybe I wouldn't be so fucking blind!" he hadn't meant to say that and waited, mentally wincing, for Kakashi to regain his patience in a sudden flash of pity.
It didn't happen. Kakashi didn't so much as blink. "Your eye won't help you get your life back, Obito," he said, yanking a glass out of the cupboard and filling it with tap water. "You know what *might*? Stop wallowing in the past and *move on.*" He stalked into the room, slammed the glass down on the coffee table, the pills beside it.
"So easy for you to say. When *you* get too attached to the past, you just get rid of your teammates!" Obito snatched up the pills and swallowed them dry, scorning the water if only because Kakashi had brought it.
Kakashi leaned over, nose to nose with Obito. "I do not let my teammates die."
Obito sneered. "Funny, coming from a guy who--"
Kakashi grabbed his jaw in long fingers, effectively cutting him off. "I'm sorry you're angry. I'm sorry you're hurt. If I could go back and change everything, I would. I'd rescue you in a heartbeat. I'd *die* in your *place.* I can't. I have done what I can for you. I don't know what more I can do. I don't know how to make this better." The words were quiet, angry, intense. He released Obito and stepped back, running both hands through his hair as he turned away.
"I hate you," Obito hissed. "*Everything* is your fault."
"It's not!" Kakashi snapped. "I'm not the child you knew! I learned, I got better, I--" he laughed. "I actually *listened* to *you.* I did what I thought *you* would do. And now look at us!" He gestured to Obito, then wrapped his hands around his head and paced away, paced back.
"Fuck you," Obito growled. "Fuck you, you're still an asshole!" he shouted, gaining volume.
Kakashi took deep breaths, trying to calm, and Obito hated it. Knew if he were anyone else, Kakashi would have hit him by now.
"You--" Kakashi said, whipping around, "are an ungrateful little snot!"
"Arrogant *prick,*" Obito shot back.
"Afraid to move on with your life because you're afraid of what people will think," Kakashi said.
Obito flinched, hearing the ring of truth. "You've killed everyone you've ever--"
"Oh, stop!" Kakashi yelled. "We're ninja! People die! The higher rank you are, the more likely you'll die! Yes, the people I've loved--a lot of them have fallen! But that's not my fault--they were shinobi, and knew the risks! I've kept people *alive*, too!"
"I hate you!"
"I don't care!" Kakashi shouted.
Obito stared at him.
Kakashi stared back, looking surprised.
Obito took a deep breath. Then another. He sat back and folded his arms over his chest, glowering. He looked up when Kakashi started to laugh. "What?"
"Gods, you look thirteen again," the other man said, and folded weakly into a chair. Obito watched him like he'd lost his mind, hearing the exhaustion and strain in the other man's voice.
But exhaustion and strain weren't pity. They weren't nice. They weren't neutral. They weren't being careful of him because he was broken, weren't guilt or atonement. They were just . . . exhaustion. Strain.
Obito felt tension ease out of his shoulders. The glower turned into a pout. "I am not afraid of moving on in my life," he muttered when Kakashi stopped chuckling. "What do you think the physical therapy is for?"
"Making you walk," Kakashi said dryly, then mumbled, "dead-last."
Obito looked up, eye widening. Kakashi was staring out the window, chin on his hand, fingers curled over his mouth. "Did you just call me dead-last?" Obito protested.
Kakashi looked at him without moving, just his eyes shifting. "Maybe."
"You are such a--a--" He couldn't think of anything vile enough.
"Arrogant prick?" Kakashi suggested mildly.
"Yes!"
They fell into silence.
"Feeling better?" Kakashi asked after a bit.
Obito had to think about it. He hadn't realized the pain had lessened, he was so busy being angry. "Yeah," he said finally.
"Good." They sat. Then Kakashi said, "How can I help you?"
"Stop treating me like I'm broken," Obito answered quickly.
Kakashi nodded, looking out the window again. "I didn't realize I was, you know."
Obito shrugged and glowered at the coffee table. The pills weren't sitting well.
"Ninja deal with things. Then they move on." Kakashi paused, and added, "I'm glad you're back to being a ninja. Bitchiness and all."
Obito looked up sharply. "Stop being an ass and get me some bread. You gave me pills without food, moron."
"Cry-baby," Kakashi muttered, pushing up to his feet.
"Idiot," Obito grumbled. He waited while Kakashi fussed in the kitchen, finally bringing him a bowl of leftover noodles in black sauce. He took it wordlessly, along with the fork Kakashi offered.
"Why didn't you tell me you were almost blind?" Kakashi asked.
Obito shrugged, feeling defensive again. "Why didn't you tell me you couldn't turn the Sharingan off?"
"You were dead," Kakashi pointed out blandly.
"Yeah, well . . . " Obito shoved food into his mouth, precluding speech. He heard a heartfelt sigh, and looked up to see Kakashi sprawled out in the chair, eyes closed. "You gonna sleep elsewhere *again*?" he asked snottily.
"No. I'm even going to make you move over so I can use part of my bed," Kakashi answered without opening his eyes.
Obito frowned. "I could sleep on the couch . . ."
"With your leg? Please. You'll fuck it up more."
Obito humphed but didn't argue. "You'd better not elbow me or something."
"Don't steal the covers," Kakashi said.
Obito snorted.
*********
Author: JBMcDragon
Genre: Drama
Status: In progress
Rating: R for violence and sexual content
Warnings: Het, yaoi, violence, and terrible, terrible angst. Also, very, very long.
Summary: Set during the end of the time-jump.
They returned one teammate fewer. The loss of that teammate changed Kakashi in ways Obito surviving couldn’t have. Kakashi remembers him fondly, speaks to him in dreams, and carries his ghost as a companion.
But his dreams and reality don’t quite match up . . .
Scar Tissue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Obito couldn't stop the tears. He didn't know what was wrong with him, but he couldn't stop the tears. Hours went by, and every time he thought the tears were gone, that they were all dried up, they'd start again. Slipping quietly from between his eyelids, without any sobbing or fuss, making his eye raw and wetting the pillow.
He got up and got food, and still the tears came. He went back to bed, tried to read a book, and halfway through page five the tears returned, blurring his limited vision.
He decided to nap. It wasn't like he had anyone expecting him or anywhere to be. In fact, he had nothing.
Sometime in the afternoon someone knocked on the door. He ignored it, burying his head under the pillow. They knocked again. And again.
Cursing, Obito dragged himself to his feet, wrestled with the crutches, and hobbled over to open the door.
"Hi," one of the girls from the night before said. Her eyes were red, and for a moment he thought--'Uchiha!' But that wasn't the case at all. He blinked, wished his single eye wasn't swollen from fucking tears, and squinted.
Long black hair. It was curly, thick. Cherry red lips. She was pretty, in an overdone sort of way.
"Are you going to invite me in?" she asked with a friendly smile.
"Oh, uh--" Obito stepped back, caught a crutch on the edge of a chair, and stumbled until she reached out and grabbed him with strong fingers around his arm. "Thanks," he muttered, freeing his crutch and banging across the floor. "Kakashi's not here right now--"
"I was looking for you, actually," she said. "I'm Kurenai," she added, when Obito just stared at her.
"Of course," he said, flushing. She'd introduced herself then, too. Stupid to forget. "Can I get you something to drink?" He wasn't exactly sure how, given that his hands were full of crutches, but it seemed rude not to ask.
"Why don't I get us both something?" she offered, striding into the kitchen as if she weren't wearing spike heels.
Crap, with the heels she was taller than he was. He thought about protesting while she buzzed around the kitchen, then he finally just banged back into the living room and sat down.
"Anko and I thought you could probably use a friend," Kurenai called from the other room, "but she left on a mission this morning. That leaves me."
Obito winced. "You were, uh, both there last night, right?" Oh, gods, he hoped by some miraculous fluke she hadn't seen him break down.
She came back into the room with two glasses of water, set one down beside Obito, and perched on the couch. "Don't worry about it," she said with a sympathetic smile. "Everyone does it from time to time."
Obito would have sunk lower into his chair, might have apologized--*something*--but then she tapped the long scar drawn through his missing eye, the scar that matched Kakashi's, and said, "Rakish." She grinned.
He stared at her. "Huh?"
Kurenai laughed. "Come on. I know you're grieving, and you're probably going to be a wreck today, but we're getting you out of the house."
"I don't--" he began, aware he hadn't dressed and probably stank.
"Come on," Kurenai said again, grabbing his elbow and hauling him to his feet. She looked down at him. "Little guy, aren't you?"
Obito's spine straightened. "Uchiha," he muttered.
"Right. That's right. They were all short," she said, and shoved his crutches at him. "Let's go, Titchy."
He frowned, sorting out limbs and crutches. "*What* did you just call me?"
Kurenai smiled again. Hair curled around her face. "Mist term. Let's go."
She practically dragged him out the door.
**
The lights along the streets swung in the evening breeze, and little strings of them ran around café patios and up through trees. He didn't remember Konoha being so . . . *pretty.* Of course, he hadn't been that interested in it at twelve and thirteen years of age.
He tried not to feel self-conscious, or notice that Kurenai only took them half a block at a time before just *happening* to find someone to talk to--and sit down with--or a pub that served something Obito just *had* to try. Which, of course, they had to sit down to do.
They didn't make it far in the last of the sunlight, but the trek continued through starlight, lanterns swaying above them. He preferred the uncertain dark, anyway. Easier to hide the traitorous tears that came occasionally, for no reason whatsoever. And he felt less blind in the dark. It was more like--
For a horrific moment, he'd thought, 'Home.'
No. It was more like the cell. A cell that would *never* be home, even if he lived there for sixty years rather than sixteen.
Kurenai talked with her friends, and they all ignored his shaking.
By the time she finally took him home he'd realized that all the shinobi were nice enough to ignore minor spaz attacks, along with unwanted tears. They knew how to accommodate injuries without seeming condescending, even to his--he admitted--prickly pride.
He'd also had people ask, "You're staying with the Copy Ninja? What's he like?" more times than he could warrant. When he gave them an honest answer--"Kind of an arrogant dick,"--they stared at him and then laughed.
He got back to Kakashi's late. Kakashi wasn't there. Obito collapsed into his bed and slept through the night.
**
Kakashi, Obito learned in the morning, would be gone on a mission for a few days. Obito crumpled the note and tossed it in the garbage, then scrounged up food and went back to bed.
He showered around noon, not feeling particularly awake but thinking that if Kurenai came over he didn't want to stink. He didn't care if he stunk for the physical therapist, who had to come in regardless.
Afterward, he stood in front of the bathroom mirror, staring at his reflection. Gods. What wasn't scarred was broken or twisted. He was all bones and loose skin, muscle tone long gone. He yanked a robe around himself, hoped Kurenai wouldn't arrive any time soon, and crutched out to the bedroom where his borrowed clothes lay on the bed.
Fuck.
**
It was just a B-ranked mission, but he'd taken it anyway to get out of the house. He didn't know what to do with Obito, with the grieving mass of human who obviously didn't want him around.
Still, B-ranked missions only lasted so long, and it was with a weary mind and tired muscles that Kakashi made his way back to his apartment several days later.
It was night when he let himself in, dragging off his hitai-ate and tossing his vest on a chair, too tired to put it away properly. Obito was watching him from the couch, single eye spinning red and black, around and around. He had a book in one hand and a cup of sake on the table beside him.
"Hi," Kakashi said after a moment of silence.
Obito looked back down at the book. "Kill anyone interesting?" he asked, tone just shy of sarcastic.
Kakashi rubbed a hand through his hair, wondering what, exactly, Obito's problem was now. "Couple of Chuunin who wouldn't stop attacking," he said, deciding to take the question at face value.
Actually, he'd only killed one of the Chuunin and incapacitated the other. The sealing jutsu he'd used on the kid would hold for a few hours, so if his teammates got there he had a chance of surviving. Kakashi didn't tell Obito that, though. He didn't need it known he was going soft on enemy ninja, even if they were practically children.
"Students of yours?" Obito asked sweetly.
Kakashi stared at him. "I'll have you know," he said coolly, "that I'm actually a half-way decent shinobi. I've gotten better since you last saw me."
Obito snorted and put down his book. "Oh, yeah, I was asking around about you. Let's see . . . you left me for dead, let the Fourth die, didn't save Rin, were sent after Itachi but came home without him, only ever passed one Genin team and of them, one defected and the other two were taken away to study under *other* Jounin." He stopped, pretending to think. "Did I miss anything? Other than periodic teammates who were killed in various wars, which I'm told happens to everyone? Really, that's an impressive record."
Kakashi stood, quiet, trying to gain a hold on his temper. This tired, it was always near the surface. He put both hands in his pockets and slouched. He took a deep breath, hidden behind his mask, and asked, "What do you want from me, Obito?"
There was a flare of twisted chakra, strong enough to make Kakashi gather the unraveled ends of his own. "I want my god-damned life back!" Obito shouted, snatching up his crutches and struggling to his feet. "I want the sixteen years you stole! I want normal dreams and--and my family!"
"I can't give that to you," Kakashi said softly. Then he turned and opened the door.
"Where the hell are you going?" Obito snarled.
"To Gai's," Kakashi said simply. He didn't turn around. Guilt and anger warred, making him vaguely ill.
"Why? He your lover?" Obito said snidely.
Kakashi slanted a look over his shoulder. "Would it matter?"
"It might. He might croak, too."
Kakashi felt a sharp comment crawl up his throat. But this was his fault. His fault Obito was bitter and angry, tortured for sixteen years. He turned and walked into the hall, closing the door behind him. He could still feel chakra, sour and rage-purple, reaching after him. He walked away. Down the hall, up a floor, to Gai's door. There was a wreath on it, all fall colors--amusing, since it was spring. Kakashi knocked once and then walked in.
Classical music was playing, and Gai was sniffling while chopping--Kakashi sniffed--onions. Well. He supposed that was a better reason for tears than most of Gai's reasons.
"My Eternal Rival!" Gai bawled. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
Kakashi dropped bonelessly onto the couch. "I'm escaping Obito. He's spoiling for a fight. I don't have the patience." He looked sidelong at Gai, then asked hopefully, "I don't suppose you feel the need to challenge an Uchiha?"
Gai tossed minced onions into a giant pot, wiping his tears off on a towel. Whatever he said was lost in the cloth, but Kakashi felt certain it wasn't, 'Why, yes! I'm dying to do just that!'
"What does he want?" Gai asked, pulling out a new cutting board and laying a chicken breast on it. He began to slice that, too, dropping thin strips into the pot as he did.
"His life back." Kakashi closed his eyes and let his head rest against the back of the couch, grateful that Gai's furniture was comfortable. Anger drained out of him, leaving regret behind. How could he face Obito's anger, tell him to back off, when he thought it justified? Kakashi might have to start coming here a lot more often.
"Well," Gai said thoughtfully, "he can't have it back, and he's going to waste what's left of his Precious Youth if he keeps trying to get it."
Kakashi laughed softly. "Tell him that, would you? And maybe that I'm not a bad-luck charm to anyone who fights alongside me, while you're at it?"
The chopping stopped. String music filled the silence, haunting and slow before the crash of symbols picked everything up.
"Most Admired Colleague! You're not a bad-luck charm!"
"I know," Kakashi said dryly. "That's what I said."
". . . oh," Gai murmured finally, and began chopping again. "So . . . he's fighting with you, because he can't fight reality?"
Kakashi looked up. He hated it when Gai had insights. It always made him feel one step behind. So he did what he always did when that happened. "Hm." And closed his eyes.
"Ohhh! My So-Hip Rival! So Modern!" Gai exclaimed from the kitchen. Kakashi could imagine his face turning red and the fist holding the knife shaking in the air. It made him smirk.
Silence stretched, filled with the smell of peppers. "Why doesn't he get his own apartment? He has the money," Gai asked after a time.
"I haven't suggested it," Kakashi admitted. "He's grieving. At least at my place, he doesn't have to worry about food or paying bills . . ."
"But you keep running from your own home," Gai pointed out reasonably.
Kakashi shrugged. "Guilt'll do that," he muttered. He looked up, watching peppers join the chicken in the pot, and celery go in after that. "How many people are you planning on feeding?"
Gai's face lit. "Lee-kun is coming over after his training for more training!"
Kakashi winced. "I think I'd better find another couch to crash on," he muttered, wishing he hadn't left his hitai-ate and vest home. He didn't really want to wander the village without them, but didn't know anyone else in this apartment building well enough to sleep on their furniture.
*Gods.* He was going to have to go get his hitai-ate. Genma was home, he thought. Genma would let him in. But how to explain that to Obito? Did it matter?
If he ran really fast, maybe it wouldn't matter that he didn't have his hitai-ate. He hoisted himself off Gai's couch, giving the simmering pot one last look, unsure if it looked good or terrifying. He opted for terrifying, since he didn't know what Gai had put in it before he'd arrived. "I'm heading to Genma's," he said, wandering to the window. "Keep an ear open for Obito, will you?"
"Of course, my Most Awesome Companion!"
Kakashi winced and hoped that name wouldn't stick. Eternal Rival he could deal with, but Awesome Companion? Geh. He vaulted out the window and flung himself toward Genma's.
**
Days slid into weeks, and Obito, for all intents and purposes, was the only occupant of Kakashi's apartment. The Copy Ninja appeared occasionally to get clean clothes or restock the kitchen, but then left on another mission or to sleep on a friend's couch.
Kakashi couldn't stand the guilt. Couldn't kick Obito out, because the man had nowhere to go. Couldn't deal with looking at him, fending off his anger, refusing to retaliate because, hells, the guy was crippled and miserable and it was Kakashi's fault.
He should have gone back.
He'd been *thirteen.*
He went home again, tiptoed in the door and felt the weight of grief lifted in his little apartment. A glance at Obito--awake, sitting at the kitchen table--showed his single eye clear and unswollen. No tears.
Obito glanced at him. "You usually gone this much?" he asked, then stood and picked up his cereal bowl, hobbling to the counter with just one crutch.
Kakashi cocked his head. "You're walking better," he said tentatively.
Obito had to nearly turn around to eye him. "Physical therapy." He put his bowl in the sink, ran water, and went back to the table with the single crutch. "Kaori says I'll probably be able to walk with a cane, when all is said and done."
"That's good," Kakashi said, brightening slightly. "Right?"
Obito lifted his unscarred shoulder and dropped it. "Suppose."
Kakashi stood there, hands stuffed in his pockets, then finally headed for the bedroom. "I'm just going to get some things . . ." He went through his drawers, pulled out a couple of books he'd been wanting to read and a few new shirts, then felt Obito. He turned.
Obito stood, bad shoulder arced from the crutch, knuckles white on the grip. "You said you'd take me to the Uchiha memorial," Obito said tightly, gaze latched on the floor.
Kakashi straightened entirely, putting down the shirt he'd been folding. "Yes. Of course."
"When?"
"Whenever you like."
Obito took a deep breath, and Kakashi saw that the man was starting to fill out again. He was Uchiha, and would never be stocky. The Uchiha were all lean and willowy, small people with enormous power. But at least his bones weren't showing anymore. "Today?" Obito said, still staring at the floor. The strap of the eyepatch cut a line across his forehead, accentuating the slender black brows.
"Yes," Kakashi said.
Obito licked his lips, then nodded once and turned. "I should just--I need to take some pills first . . ." he crutched out of the room, black and silver hair falling shiny across his back.
Kakashi put his shirt away, then followed the other man into the family room. Obito was in the kitchen, swallowing pills with water, grimacing with each one. Then the Uchiha shuffled about a bit, moving papers and muttering about cleaning--stalling, really. Eventually he looked up. "Is that it, then?" he asked, chin lifting defiantly. "Are you ready?"
Kakashi just nodded and opened the door, sauntering out into the hall and waiting for Obito to follow. He did, stopping in the doorway to throw a light coat on over his shirt.
"You have new clothes," Kakashi mentioned, glancing at baggy khaki pants and the black, long sleeved shirt.
Obito slanted him a look upward, full of the annoyed disdain he'd had as a boy. "I couldn't keep borrowing Hiashi-san's."
"True," Kakashi said, and pulled the door closed before starting down the hall. Out the window and across the rooftops would be faster, but it was obvious Obito wasn't going to manage that.
"Anko took me shopping," Obito said. "Ibiki saved me."
Kakashi laughed, glancing down at the black head of hair beside him. Obito was glaring at the floor, concentrating on where he stepped, gait off-kilter. No more of a limp than Kakashi had expected. Less, actually. Still painfully noticeable.
They made small talk for the first few minutes of their walk, and then Obito fell silent, chakra going more and more brittle. Kakashi remained quiet, giving him mental space, keeping their pace slow. It took time to get out of the village, and Kakashi realized this may well end up being a day trip. He should have brought food.
The Uchiha memorial was on the outskirts of the village, in a little clearing made into a park. Someone had planted flowers years before, but hadn't kept up with them. They'd overgrown their boundaries, rioting color through the grass. Ivy crawled all over a small arboretum. A wall stood, or parts of one: by design each bit of wall was no more than a foot across, standing pillar-like in a snaking row, letting sun shine between.
It was glossy black rock with red veins of mineral running through it, and it glittered in the late morning light. Lists and lists of names were chiseled into it, over a hundred in all. Unlit candles sat in red bowls on stone tablets at the base of each pillar.
"Here," Obito said quietly, hobbling until he balanced mostly on his good leg and could hand his crutch to Kakashi. "Hold this for me."
Kakashi took it, simply watching, doing his best to fade into the background as Obito breathed deeply. Chakra gathered and pooled in the man's chest, circled once quickly as he made hand seals, then flared brighter and tore through scarred pathways when the last Konoha Uchiha said, "Goukakyuu no jutsu!" and forced the blaze through his mouth, shaping it with his fingers.
Flame licked out along the pillars, catching on candle wicks so that when the fire vanished, bits remained behind. Obito swayed, and Kakashi prepared to catch him should he fall. Then one imperious hand thrust out, fingers curling rapidly in a 'hand it back' gesture.
Kakashi put the crutch in Obito's hand and the man took it, leaned on it, and hobbled closer to the lists.
The jutsu had taken more out of Obito than he wanted to admit, Kakashi could see. He said nothing, aware of Uchiha pride, and simply waited. Time passed as he stood, watching Obito look at the pillars, limp growing more pronounced as time gathered. Obito read each name anyway.
He was halfway through when he spoke. "I keep thinking someone has to be alive," he said finally, untwisted fingers reaching out to stroke over an engraved name. "That he couldn't have gotten all of them."
"He didn't get you," Kakashi pointed out.
Obito gave a bitter laugh. "I have been told," he said quietly, "that I'm now a very wealthy man." His head turned, his profile coming into view. Perfectly straight nose, high cheekbones seeming higher because of the eyepatch. No scars on this side, Kakashi thought, and realized he was seeing Obito as Obito might have been. "Funny how people will say that money can't buy happiness, and at least you have your health . . . until your family and your health are gone. Then they tell you that you have money, as if that'll make it better."
Kakashi didn't wince.
Obito turned and began reading names once more. "She snuck me cookies when my mother said I couldn't have any," he said once, on the whisper of a broken laugh. The laugh died, and he wiped at his eye with his sleeve. Then continued down to the next pillar.
At last he was sitting on the ground at the end of the row, having finally given in to pain. Grass curled up over his badly healed fingers, hiding the fact that one was missing. Flowers bobbed around him, and in the nearby trees birds sang. Obito was nothing more than a small shadow in the midst of it, black hair and black shirt, black eyepatch marring pale skin. "What happened to the man who did this? Where'd he go?" Obito murmured.
Kakashi walked over and sat down as well, plucking a blade of grass and splitting it lengthwise. "Itachi escaped. He joined the Akatsuki. He works with a missing ninja named Kisame. People are looking for him, but he's hidden successfully so far."
"And killed anyone who might have found him," Obito added. "And the other one? The one you said turned traitor?"
"Sasuke joined Orochimaru. His plan seems to be to trade his body--Orochimaru will need another soon--for the power to kill Itachi."
"Can't blame him for that," Obito said dryly. "I applaud his reasons, if not his stupidity. Would've been better to get his team to help."
"Yes. Well." Kakashi said nothing more. Sasuke reminded him too much of himself at that age; determined to do it himself, unburdened by a team. He hadn't learned what Obito had painfully taught Kakashi.
The sun crept across the sky.
"I--" Obito stopped, pale skin flushing, and ripped out a handful of grass.
"What?" Kakashi asked, looping arms around his knees and holding one wrist with the other hand, relaxed.
Obito hunched his shoulders and dropped the grass in favor of a flower. "I don't think I can walk back home."
Kakashi kept his tone neutral, sensing the prickle of injured pride and able to guess how much it cost Obito to admit that. He just shrugged nonchalantly. "I'll carry you. Just tell me when you're ready to go."
Obtio's face turned further away, hostility rising off him in waves. "If you just take me to the edge of the village, I can walk the rest of the way," he said, and Kakashi heard the unspoken words--no one would have to see him so crippled.
"All right," he said, even though he figured that was still too far.
They sat for a while longer while the day edged toward afternoon. The sun beat relentlessly down, and the trees kept the breeze from them. Obito shed his coat after a bit, and even pushed the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows. Scars ran down one arm, the skin slightly discolored. They were nothing worse than Kakashi had seen before, but Obito ran a hand up and down them, thumb following the lines.
The crutch lay at their feet, wood bound with leather. Candles burned, and smoke underlay the sweet of flowers and the fresh of grass.
"All right," Obito said, pulling his sleeves down and shivering once as afternoon waned toward evening. "We should go home." Pink rose over his jaw and across fair cheekbones, partly sunburn, mostly a frustrated blush. He wiped again at his eye, the one Kakashi couldn't see, then picked up his crutch.
Kakashi stood, held out a hand, and when the Uchiha clasped it he pulled the man up and swung him around, settling him piggy-back before taking off through the forest. At the edge of the village he stopped, put Obito down, then took the crutch away. "Still too far," he said softly, looping an arm around the man's back and pulling Obito's hand across his shoulders, nearly lifting him off his feet.
For a moment he thought Obito would object, and then the Uchiha seemed to realize that he could *look* like he was walking while Kakashi supported his weight. They moved through the village like that, making it home as dark began to settle throughout the apartment. He put Obito on the couch and went into the kitchen to fix dinner.
**
"Kakashi?" Shizune asked, poking her head out of her office. "Kotetsu said you'd made an appointment?"
He stood, tucking away his book. "Ah," he said, smiling. "Yes. About Obito." He stepped inside, glancing around at text-lined walls and stacks of reference material. Getting an appointment to see Tsunade about something not related to Konoha safety was almost impossible, even for him, but Shizune was more accessible--and knew almost as much.
"How's he doing?" she asked, gesturing to a comfortable looking chair and sitting down herself. She scooped her pig up off the floor, setting it in her lap.
"Well enough," Kakashi said blandly. "Considering." He sat, legs extended, ankles crossed, fingers linked over his stomach. "We went to the Uchiha memorial yesterday. He's adapting."
"Yes," Shizune said, flipping through paperwork. "Ibiki says he's made some friends, and seems to be handling his grief well."
Kakashi rubbed the back of his neck, well aware he wasn't one of the friends Obito had made. In some ways, having Obito back but hating Kakashi was worse than Obito dying. He decided to skip the rest of the pleasantries. "He has surprising chakra control, considering how badly scarred his pathways are. Isn't there a way to use that to help him walk better?" The fire jutsu at the memorial had told him Obito's training wasn't all gone, that the man had reserves they hadn't drawn on. Surely they could do *something.*
"Ah," Shizune said, and put her paperwork aside. "Actually, we are using that."
Kakashi frowned.
"He should be crippled."
"He is," Kakashi pointed out dryly.
"No--completely. The fact that he can walk, can still *see* out of the eye he has left, as limited as his vision is--his ability to breathe with only one lung working properly--he has amazing reserves of chakra. Part of the scarring, in fact, seems to have been his own body trying to keep him alive. Rerouting power to where it was needed most, but consequently cutting that energy off to his extremities." She lifted both hands and let them drop. "His injuries were far more severe than just broken bones. He's had multiple doctors in, studying what he subconsciously did, in an attempt to possibly use it and help his body further."
Kakashi frowned.
"The rocks should have killed him," Shizune said. "Even with whatever jutsu the Rock ninja used, the avalanche should have killed him. And, later, their own practices should have done it again. From what Obito's said, they were more worried about him escaping than keeping him alive--or they didn't realize how badly he was hurt." She watched Kakashi for a moment, and added, "Obito should, by all rights, be dead. We're doing what we can, and what's been done is a miracle."
Kakashi scratched at his jawline, material shifting under his fingers. He sighed. "All right," he said at last, pushing up to his feet. "Thank you."
Shizune smiled and inclined her head. "Give him my best."
Kakashi waved, smiled, and vanished.
**
Obito lay on the couch, trying to breathe through pain. He'd overdone it the day before. He'd known it at the time, but--
His jaw hurt from gritting his teeth. The muscle itself was sore, his head ached, and his molars felt like they'd rotted. It was the least of his pain.
His physical therapist, Kaori, had said this would happen. Not to overdo it, to stick with what he'd outlined, and if Obito did go too far he'd pay for it later.
Well, he was paying for it. Obito took deep, slow breaths, eye closed, focusing on the couch underneath him. The door opened. There were no footsteps, which meant it was probably Kakashi. The ass walked cat-quiet.
"Are you all right?"
The tentative bond he'd felt with the Copy Ninja the day before was gone, wiped out in waves of agony. All of this was Kakashi's fault. "No, I'm not fucking all right, you stupid fucking asshole," Obito snapped, pressing his thumbs into his thigh in an attempt to make the twisted muscle stop cramping.
There was a moment of silence. Then, "Maybe I should go."
Obito opened his eyes, saw only a small tunnel of vision. The ceiling was above him. "Yeah, go," he said sarcastically. "It's not like you're ever here anyway. Just go and fucking forget that I don't know my way around here--and--*shit.*" He sat up, bending over his leg, trying to breathe again. Just breathe.
". . . I can get you some pain pills," Kakashi said after a minute. "Here, let me see." The couch dipped, and hands surrounded Obito's. Chakra poured into him, tingling and numbing and taking away the sharpest edge of the pain.
"I thought you were going," Obito snapped, still hurting too much. Taking away the edge did nothing to dull his temper.
"I can at least do this," Kakashi said softly. Nice. Too nice. The Kakashi Obito had known had been an arrogant prick, and this Kakashi was always nice or neutral or oh-so-careful. Reminding him with every word that he wasn't whole, wasn't worth fighting with, poured on pity he didn't want.
"Fuck off!" Obito snarled, slapping Kakashi's hands away. "I don’t need your fucking help! Do what you're good at and *leave*!"
Kakashi stood, walked to the kitchen, riffled through bottles until he found the pain pills. "How many?" His grace was gone. He was annoyed.
*Good.*
And *still* he was being *nice.* "Fuck off!" Obito shouted, picking up a pillow and chucking it at the other man. "Go! Get out! Run away from the problem like you *always* do!"
There was strain around the single visible eye. "I don't--"
"You *do*! Me and Sensei, your students--" He struck close to home, as close as he could get, wanting to hurt, to see something other than that stupid *pity.*
Kakashi slapped the bottle down on the counter. "I do not leave people," he snapped, enunciating clearly. "I haven't ever. Not even you. You were *dead.*"
"Bullshit!" Obito shouted, mind raging with pain and frustration. "At the first sign of a real fight you shit yourself and race off!"
"I've fought more than you can even *imagine* for my teammates," Kakashi said, finally--finally!--raising his voice.
"Right, you and that stupid--" Obito fluttered his fingers beside his head. "Butterfly of doom no jutsu!"
"It's thousand birds!" Kakashi yelled. "Chidori! Thousand birds!"
"Which you couldn't've learned without *my* eye! You wouldn't be half the ninja you are if it weren't for me!"
"Did you want it *back*?" Kakashi asked snidely. "Would that make you feel better?" He twisted the pill bottle violently, the cap popping off and pills scattering. He caught two out of midair. "I can't *believe* I was trying to *help* you," he snarled under his breath.
"Yes! I want it back!" Obito yelled, ignoring the words not meant for him. "Then maybe I wouldn't be so fucking blind!" he hadn't meant to say that and waited, mentally wincing, for Kakashi to regain his patience in a sudden flash of pity.
It didn't happen. Kakashi didn't so much as blink. "Your eye won't help you get your life back, Obito," he said, yanking a glass out of the cupboard and filling it with tap water. "You know what *might*? Stop wallowing in the past and *move on.*" He stalked into the room, slammed the glass down on the coffee table, the pills beside it.
"So easy for you to say. When *you* get too attached to the past, you just get rid of your teammates!" Obito snatched up the pills and swallowed them dry, scorning the water if only because Kakashi had brought it.
Kakashi leaned over, nose to nose with Obito. "I do not let my teammates die."
Obito sneered. "Funny, coming from a guy who--"
Kakashi grabbed his jaw in long fingers, effectively cutting him off. "I'm sorry you're angry. I'm sorry you're hurt. If I could go back and change everything, I would. I'd rescue you in a heartbeat. I'd *die* in your *place.* I can't. I have done what I can for you. I don't know what more I can do. I don't know how to make this better." The words were quiet, angry, intense. He released Obito and stepped back, running both hands through his hair as he turned away.
"I hate you," Obito hissed. "*Everything* is your fault."
"It's not!" Kakashi snapped. "I'm not the child you knew! I learned, I got better, I--" he laughed. "I actually *listened* to *you.* I did what I thought *you* would do. And now look at us!" He gestured to Obito, then wrapped his hands around his head and paced away, paced back.
"Fuck you," Obito growled. "Fuck you, you're still an asshole!" he shouted, gaining volume.
Kakashi took deep breaths, trying to calm, and Obito hated it. Knew if he were anyone else, Kakashi would have hit him by now.
"You--" Kakashi said, whipping around, "are an ungrateful little snot!"
"Arrogant *prick,*" Obito shot back.
"Afraid to move on with your life because you're afraid of what people will think," Kakashi said.
Obito flinched, hearing the ring of truth. "You've killed everyone you've ever--"
"Oh, stop!" Kakashi yelled. "We're ninja! People die! The higher rank you are, the more likely you'll die! Yes, the people I've loved--a lot of them have fallen! But that's not my fault--they were shinobi, and knew the risks! I've kept people *alive*, too!"
"I hate you!"
"I don't care!" Kakashi shouted.
Obito stared at him.
Kakashi stared back, looking surprised.
Obito took a deep breath. Then another. He sat back and folded his arms over his chest, glowering. He looked up when Kakashi started to laugh. "What?"
"Gods, you look thirteen again," the other man said, and folded weakly into a chair. Obito watched him like he'd lost his mind, hearing the exhaustion and strain in the other man's voice.
But exhaustion and strain weren't pity. They weren't nice. They weren't neutral. They weren't being careful of him because he was broken, weren't guilt or atonement. They were just . . . exhaustion. Strain.
Obito felt tension ease out of his shoulders. The glower turned into a pout. "I am not afraid of moving on in my life," he muttered when Kakashi stopped chuckling. "What do you think the physical therapy is for?"
"Making you walk," Kakashi said dryly, then mumbled, "dead-last."
Obito looked up, eye widening. Kakashi was staring out the window, chin on his hand, fingers curled over his mouth. "Did you just call me dead-last?" Obito protested.
Kakashi looked at him without moving, just his eyes shifting. "Maybe."
"You are such a--a--" He couldn't think of anything vile enough.
"Arrogant prick?" Kakashi suggested mildly.
"Yes!"
They fell into silence.
"Feeling better?" Kakashi asked after a bit.
Obito had to think about it. He hadn't realized the pain had lessened, he was so busy being angry. "Yeah," he said finally.
"Good." They sat. Then Kakashi said, "How can I help you?"
"Stop treating me like I'm broken," Obito answered quickly.
Kakashi nodded, looking out the window again. "I didn't realize I was, you know."
Obito shrugged and glowered at the coffee table. The pills weren't sitting well.
"Ninja deal with things. Then they move on." Kakashi paused, and added, "I'm glad you're back to being a ninja. Bitchiness and all."
Obito looked up sharply. "Stop being an ass and get me some bread. You gave me pills without food, moron."
"Cry-baby," Kakashi muttered, pushing up to his feet.
"Idiot," Obito grumbled. He waited while Kakashi fussed in the kitchen, finally bringing him a bowl of leftover noodles in black sauce. He took it wordlessly, along with the fork Kakashi offered.
"Why didn't you tell me you were almost blind?" Kakashi asked.
Obito shrugged, feeling defensive again. "Why didn't you tell me you couldn't turn the Sharingan off?"
"You were dead," Kakashi pointed out blandly.
"Yeah, well . . . " Obito shoved food into his mouth, precluding speech. He heard a heartfelt sigh, and looked up to see Kakashi sprawled out in the chair, eyes closed. "You gonna sleep elsewhere *again*?" he asked snottily.
"No. I'm even going to make you move over so I can use part of my bed," Kakashi answered without opening his eyes.
Obito frowned. "I could sleep on the couch . . ."
"With your leg? Please. You'll fuck it up more."
Obito humphed but didn't argue. "You'd better not elbow me or something."
"Don't steal the covers," Kakashi said.
Obito snorted.
*********